


We Are the Flawed

by WiinterIsNotComing



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clarke and Bellamy are parents, Everyone's happy, F/M, Future Fic, Minor Character Death, POV Original Character, except not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiinterIsNotComing/pseuds/WiinterIsNotComing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your mother fell from the sky and scorched the earth with her hands. And your father held her amongst the ashes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> It's an idea that has been keeping me awake at night.

Her earliest memories were ones of peace. She’d been born in a rare age of Earth reestablishing itself as a place for humanity without so much terror and death. They called her a spring child. Not just because she was born in the storms of April, but also because she grew up in a time where her parents weren’t constantly looking over their shoulders in fear of the darkness that could be creeping up on them.

Those certain times never last long, she learned that at a young age.

At the age of five she would walk outside the walls of her home with her mother. They wandered into the deep green of the forest and she’d be handed multiple plants to put in the bag she was charged with carrying. Her mother would quiz the girl on them, asking if she knew the names, what they were used for. At first, she had no clue. Sometimes she wasn’t allowed to touch a certain plant, and would instead simply hold out the bag for it to be carefully placed in.

It didn’t take long for her to understand each one, to recognize its properties without knowing what it actually was. Her mother told her she had the eye of a healer, just like her, just like her grandmother and her uncle.

The girl once asked, “Then what does father have the eye of?”

Her mother smiled. “He has the eye of a warrior.”

Ana wanted to have the eye of a warrior too.

She looked up at her parents and she saw strength. She saw her mother with a blonde halo, almost like a crown, as she saved the lives of people around her not just with the herbs they collected but with the actions of a warrior. She may have primarily been a healer, but she was also a leader, standing out amongst her people with small hands that could scorch the earth. 

Ana learned her mother was just like her father when she slashed the throat of a rogue Grounder with his own knife after he called her a harbinger of death before attempting to kill her.

She held her daughter’s hand with the one that wasn’t covered in blood on the walk back home.

“You said father was the one with the eye of a warrior.”

Her mother looked down and said gently, “Everyone on the ground has the eye of a warrior, _yuj yongon_ , you should do well to remember that.”

“Am I a warrior, _nomon_?”

“You are the strongest little warrior in our whole civilization.”

She didn’t truly become one until after the time of peace ended, and a new age of war began.

~.~

She met the _Heda_ when she was seven. The woman seemed harsh, forged from fire and molten lava. Yet she had this sort of fragility in her. It appeared soon after Ana was introduced to her. At that time, the commander had been in battle gear, knives strapped to her thighs and war paint covering the upper part of her face, making the whites of her eyes glow. Ana kept telling herself she was a warrior, her mother’s _yuj yongon_ , but she still shied away when the _Heda_ asked her name in a voice that was oddly less cold than her appearance.

Ana’s mother had simply said, “The first time she saw a Grounder he was trying to kill me.”

The woman replied, “Do you think we made a mistake keeping the children separated from one another’s society?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitance, “but we can fix that, starting now.”

Ana saw her again the next morning with the sun streaming through the trees. She was clear of her face paint, and without it she looked soft, almost delicate, but still strong. 

When Ana tried to call her _Heda_ , she responded with a small smile and said, “Call me Lexa, _yuj goufa_.”

They sat in the grass, and Lexa wove Ana’s hair into braids her mother couldn’t begin to comprehend. They even surpassed the skill of her aunt’s and she was close to mastering the styles herself. Ana made a crown of flowers with her small hands and placed it on Lexa’s head. “My daddy told me you were like Persephone, queen of the underworld but a goddess of nature.”

Lexa almost looked shocked, glancing at her old friend with curious eyes. The other woman was practically glowing.

“He tells her our history and Greek myths as bedtime stories.” She said with a smile spread across her face. “Octavia is Artemis and Raven is Hephaestus.”

Lexa laughed shakily. “She is wise beyond her years.” Their eyes connect. “And what are you?”

“He would say I’m Atlas.”

“The one who held up the stars and carried a world on his shoulders.” Lexa said quietly. “It suits you.”

Ana’s mother wound her free hand with Lexa’s. “Although I think if you asked years ago, he’d say we were both Athena.”

“I think if you asked him now he’d say Athena was still somewhere hidden deep inside us.”

They were both smiling at each other. “I think you’re right.”

Lexa turned back to Ana, “She seems more like an Artemis to me.”

“She’s more like her aunt in personality than either of us. It terrifies him.”

“I would assume so.”

“You know he wanted to name her Artemis, but I told him if he named her anything mythology-related I’d stab him in his sleep.”

“Sounds like the Athena in you.”

“Yeah, well the Athena in me had to keep quiet when he named Sol. At least it wasn’t Apollo.”

“Sol is a good name. Especially for that boy of yours.”

Ana thought of her baby brother, just three years old, with bright blond curls and brown eyes. He was more like their mother than she was. But she was completely and utterly their father’s if anything.

~.~

Ana had her first taste of war when she was eight.

Just weeks before she’d been wrapped around her father as he carried her on his back through the ever-growing village they thrived in. It used to be a camp, he’d told her, but after multiple wars and a chance to settle down in peace, they took the time to build true homes, start a normal society. They still lived in a sense of solitude with a tall wall surrounding their home. Her parents said it was for their safety. She remembered that Grounder in the forest, the empty look in her mother's eyes when she was covered in his blood, and she understood the fear instilled in them.

Her father walked frighteningly fast, almost in a jog, and she would’ve been terrified if he hadn’t held her so tightly.

“Daddy, why are you going so fast?”

“We gotta beat your mother and Sol to the clinic.”

“She’s always in the clinic!”

“Not right now she isn’t, but they’ll be back soon. Don’t you want to surprise her for lunch?”

“Not if it means you’re gonna drop me!”

At that he slowed slightly. “I’m not going to drop you, Kat.”

She pouted. “Don’t call me Kat.”

“Your mom named you, I can call you Kat all I want.”

She smacked his back with her small hand, receiving a small gasp from him. “That hurt!”

“You’re just a baby!” But she was grinning.

They reached the med clinic; a place Ana found herself in often. She and her mother would always go there after collecting plants, and they’d sort through them while she learned the proper way to store and use them. By then, just eight-years-old, she had the place nearly memorized. It wouldn’t be long until she was helping with the patients.

She couldn’t be more excited.

They’d surprised her mother who was carrying Sol on her hip, and she fake-gasped with a laugh. Sol reached for his father gleefully, and so Ana was placed on the ground and her little brother replaced the man’s attention, only so her mother could tickle her to death instead.

It was one of the last memories she had of the peaceful time, when her parents weren’t constantly covered in blood, when she never saw them without guns and knives strapped to their belts, when they weren’t dead on their feet but still so alive.

She looked up at her parents and saw warriors, a queen and a king, a god and a goddess. They were conjurers of death, but they were her everything, these human beings with so much passion for life, for her, for her brother.

She got her first taste of war when they said goodbye. Her mother hugged them both, kissed Sol on both chubby cheeks and told him to be good for his grandmother. With Ana she simply cupped her cheeks, looked into her eyes, and said “You are my _yuj yongon gona_ , do not forget that.”

Ana had nodded and tried not to cry, but the second her father was kneeling down in front of her, the tears leaked out of her eyes in a flood.

“Kitty Kat, you know we’re not leaving forever.”

She nodded again. “I know.”

“You have to take care of your brother.”

She sniffled. “My brother, my responsibility.”

He smiled sadly. “But only temporarily. We’ll be back before you know it.”

She didn’t let go when he hugged her, she was so afraid. This sort of thing was purely unfamiliar to her. Her parents had left before, to go to Grounder villages and talk treaties, alliances. Sometimes they left on hunting trips just to get away for a few days, and she knew those were the peaceful things they deserved.

They didn’t deserve this. She knew the stories, the legends of her people. Her father told them to her every night. Her mother, Atlas, carrying the weight of the Sky People on her shoulders. 

She never asked for it, he said, but she took it without question.

How much would she have to take this time?

She watched them go with the rest of their soldiers, leaving the village feeling oddly empty. Her brother wouldn’t stop crying as she clutched his hand tightly.

~.~

When they came back, she saw this thing was not like the simple tales her father told her. It was dark, harsh, full of death and ruthless decisions. The light that had been leaking out of them all her life had faded slightly, like she knew it would.

At the age of eight, she began to see war for what it really was.

And thus ended her time as a spring child.


	2. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throughout the chapters there will usually be time jumps, varying anywhere from her potentially being three to seventeen. Eventually after the basis is set it'll mostly be her at seventeen. I apologize in advance if it's unclear how old she is in a certain part. Also, this chapter includes the issue of nightmares so just be aware of that. Other than that, enjoy the dramatic sappiness.

One of her happier memories after the war started was when she was nine. Her father came home covered in fresh scars, bags under his eyes and his face covered in dirt and blood. He was exhausted, tired, and wounded.

Yet when she ran through the crowd, yelling “Dad!” repeatedly, he came alive. A wave of relief washed over him as she ran straight into his arms and he swept her up despite his bloody and rugged clothes. She cried into the crook of his neck and he held her close and murmured loving words into her ear. He stroked her hair with one hand and held her tightly with the other. It nearly crushed her lungs but she didn’t care. 

And then her mother was fighting through the crowd, a frantic look on her face. And Ana watched as she broke through, her bright blue eyes wide and glassy. He lifted his head and latched his eyes on Clarke, who looked dead on her feet but so happy.

She walked up to him slowly, and he never looked away from her. With the hand that had been stroking his daughter’s hair he reached out and pulled Clarke to him. He pressed a long kiss into her forehead and then brought her close.

She wrapped her arms around him and Ana, and they all held onto one another for dear life.

“Where’s my sun boy?” Bellamy asked with a weak grin. Clarke laughed and pulled away, glancing into the crowd to see Raven make her way through with Sol holding her hand. When he saw his father he ran forward with glee.

Ana was placed on the ground, and she took a step back as Sol was lifted into Bellamy’s arms.

She remembered that moment every time she went to sleep when her father was away. She remembered that she would get that moment again when he returned. She remembered that in place of him telling her a Greek myth as a bedtime story when he was gone.

Sometimes it helped her sleep. Sometimes it gave her nightmares.

Either way, it was all she could think about. Her parents, returning home safely. It was all she wanted.

~.~

The thing Ana knew very well of was the intense, furious love her dad had for Clarke Griffin. It was one of the realest things in their harsh world of reality. Everyone knew of it, had their story memorized word for word. It was inescapable. 

Clarke Griffin, Heda kom Skaikru, the ruthless leader who fell from the sky as a girl and ruled the land as a fiery woman. Ana was constantly reminded of it and she felt a fearful sense of pride for her, a woman so powerful yet full of humbleness and love.

Although outside of the legendary tales, outside of all of that, Clarke Griffin was simply Katerina and Sol’s mother. She was a woman with soft eyes and slender hands that caressed their skin and wove flowers into Ana’s hair. She was a woman who liked to lay in the sun for hours on end and draw pictures with charcoal let at night when she couldn’t sleep. She may have been the Chancellor, but in the end, to Ana, she was just Mom.

And then there was her father, Bellamy Blake. His name was said with a curve of the tongue. People were afraid of her mother, but despite her father’s darker demeanor, he was the one seen as an anchor. While she carried the weight of the world, he carried her. He led his people with a heart of passion, but in the end everything was an influence of Clarke, this girl he’d looked at and seen the god damn stars.

He didn’t always used to be like that, apparently.

Bellamy Blake could go on for hours into the night, sitting in his daughter’s bed with his arm wrapped around her, telling stories of her mother’s accomplishments and her power as a leader. There the bridge between her and Lexa, how it got torn down several times before it was rebuilt for good and even now has its holes. 

They loved each other once, he’d said. They had this connection he and Clarke didn’t. But in the end, it wasn’t enough to keep them together. They were the leaders of their people, and while love is unconditional, so is keeping humanity alive. Even now though, they cared deeply for one another. At least, that’s what he told Ana.

“Would she have stayed with her instead, if they weren’t leaders?” She asked, her eyes drooping as she nuzzled into her father’s side. He stroked her hair absentmindedly, staring at the cabin wall in front of him.

“Truthfully?” He asked and looked down at her. She nodded. “I think they’re better off where they are now.” He said firmly.

“Friends?”

“Very close friends.”

“But you guys are in love.” Ana said. “No one ever shuts up about it. Aunt O could talk forever about how much you two love each other.”

And that was very much the truth. Bellamy Blake could talk about Clarke and Clarke and Lexa for the rest of his days. He knew everything there was to know, understood it on a level so deep Ana couldn’t see the bottom. Yet when it came to their own story he seemed to stray away from the subject.

Ana was twelve, and she had yet to hear from him firsthand about her parent’s history together.

“Octavia knows us well.” He smiled. 

“Yeah, it’s kind of weird. Aunt Raven even knows stuff that Octavia doesn’t. Everyone knows something that no one else does about you two. Imagine having to constantly live with that, Dad. I’m the daughter of the Chancellor and the leader of the guard and all your friends and family can do is talk about how you guys fell in love. Honestly I try not to listen whenever they mention it.”

He pretended to look offended. “Do you not care about how we fell in love?”

“Of course I care!” She protested. “But I wanna care when I’m sixteen, not twelve.” She also wanted to hear it from him. Her father had always been the best storyteller, the best at explaining things. So why shouldn’t he be the one to explain a vital point of their growth as a family’?

Looking back on it now, she would understand that it was because his and Clarke’s story was personal. Even if the rest of the outside world seemed to know about it, there was so much more than just a timeline. It was harsh, it was dark and dramatic and not something you tell your daughter whether she’s twelve or twenty.

He told them stories of Clarke as a legend, but at the end of the day, just like her, he was simply Dad, shadowy and dark but warm and perfectly normal.

Normal as one can be on the ground, that is.

He nodded. “Fair enough, Kitty Kat. I’ll tell everyone to lay off for the next four years.”

She smiled and leaned her head into his shoulder. Her eyes drooped close. “Good.”

This was their normal routine, sitting in her tiny bed and letting his warmth lull her to sleep. Clarke would normally come in long after Ana had fallen asleep and find Bellamy snoring softly with his arms wrapped around his daughter.

Ana was this combination of his sister and his wife, the two women who meant everything to him. She carried her mother’s eyes, his dark curly hair and freckles, but lighter brown skin. But her personality was every bit his sister’s, with a light no one could destroy and a huge spirit, a fighter. 

She lived the life Octavia would’ve had if she’d been born free. She lived the life everyone who fell from the sky would’ve had if they’d been born on the ground. 

She wasn’t the first person to be born of the Sky People on Earth, but she was first to be born of the spring peace, and for that, she was truly lucky.

~.~

“Your father ever tell you about the time your Aunt Raven held a knife to his throat?”

“Kyle, I swear to God-“

“He doesn’t like to talk about any of his compromising situations.” Ana grinned like a mad woman. She always loved hearing what her uncle had to say, especially when Raven was in the room to kick his ass.

“That was in his asshole phase, when he still wanted to kill anyone who pissed him off.” Kyle leaned forward on his stool, working on a sort of blueprint. They sat across from each other in the lab, surrounded by metal and grease. Raven was in the corner, meddling with a thing of wires that made Ana’s eyes hurt. She had her mother’s skill in healing, and aunt’s in fighting, but anything further than that was beyond her set of skills.

Still, she loved hanging around in the lab when there wasn’t anything better to do.

At the moment, that meant her father was in battle, her mother was pouring over battle plans or patching people up, and her brother was in school.

Thankfully for Ana, she was seventeen and with her parents being incredibly efficient in the teaching department, she exceeded her lessons with ease, and was at the point when she was interning as a doctor when there was time to teach her. 

“I think he’s definitely still someone who would like to kill anyone that pisses him off.” Ana said thoughtfully, chin resting on her hands. At that Wick grinned.

“Don’t let your dad hear that, kid.” Raven mumbled.

“Sorta would be difficult to, seeing as he’s probably in the middle of a battlefield right now.” Ana mumbled back, fiddling with a string on her blue Henley.

Raven glanced up from her work and offered Ana a warm smile. “He’s been through worse.”

“True that.” Wick agreed. “But, back to his asshole phase,” Raven groaned in the background, “he threatened to kill her and your auntie being the majestic woman she is basically said ‘fight me’ and he pushed her up against a tree and she held a knife to his throat with a very cocky smile on her face.”

“You weren’t even there.” 

“Clarke has filled me in several times. She’s very proud of that moment.”

“Definitely wasn’t proud of it at the time, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t kill my buzz, Reyes.”

“Fuck off, Wick.”

“Hey, there is a child in this lab, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I’m seventeen!” Ana protested. “I’m the age my mom was when she was sent down here in the first place.”

“Wow.” Raven whistled. “Now that’s a weird thought.”

“Bellamy was twenty-three.” Wick noted.

Ana wrinkled her nose. “Were they together then?”

Raven guffawed. “Oh, hell no. They hated each other. I mean, Jesus, they grew on one another pretty quick, and once they did they were unstoppable, but it took a while before anything… happened.”

“A while being…?”

Wick frowned and glanced at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Try three years maybe?”

“So when she was twenty?”

“No, more like twenty-one. She turned eighteen soon after landing on the ground. Christ kid, I figured you’d know this stuff.” Wick said and raised his eyebrows in question.

Ana shrugged. “I sort of blocked anything people said about them when I was younger. Surprisingly enough, I really didn’t wanna hear about a fairytale.”

There was a clang, and then Raven hissing in pain and cussing furiously under her breath. Wick flattened his lips together in an attempt not to start laughing.

“Katerina Blake Griffin, you know damn well any story on the ground isn’t some sort of fucking fairytale.” Raven stood and walked over to the table where she and Wick were perched. 

“I’m aware.” Ana put her hands up in defense. “In case the fact that they are currently at war isn’t enough to support that, I am very, very aware.”

“But you really don’t know what happened did you?” Her aunt asked. She slid onto a stool next to Wick, elbowing him when he tried to push her off.

“I’m not really sure I wanna know.” Ana said quietly. “When people talk about it at first, it’s all, ‘they hated each other and then became co-leaders and your dad looked at her look she hung the moon. Then they developed platonic love for each other, he fell in love with her very, very quickly, and she disappeared for a year and he was heartbroken.’ After that, I sort of cancel everything out. It’s all a huge tragedy before they admit their feelings for one another. I’ve already heard the fairytale part several times, and I’ve hated it. There’s no happy ending. And while the tragedy actually ends happily…sort of, it still sucks in the middle.”

Both Raven and Wick stared at her thoughtfully. Wick was nodding the whole time as he processed what she said. Raven was the first to speak.

“Your mother fell from the sky and scorched the earth with her hands. And your father was the one to hold her amongst the ashes. That’s really all there is to it.”

“Way too be dramatic, Raven.”

“I swear on my life I will hit you over the head with a wrench.”

She admired Kyle and Raven’s ability to act like kids even though they were both in their forties. They sure as hell still looked young, but their personalities were forever stuck as teenagers.

Ana looked down at the table and studied the blurry reflection it gave her. Her hair was like a lions mane. Sometimes it was tamed, other times it was a catastrophe.

Lately, it was very much a catastrophe. 

“You have to hear the full story someday though.” Wick informed her. She nodded.

“Yeah, someday.”

~.~

She became familiar with her parent’s nightmares young.

Even during her time as a spring child the nightmares were reoccurring. Sometimes there would be months without a long night filled with constant crying and suffering, but that was a rarity.

One night shortly after a harsh battle when she was eleven, she awoke to her mother screaming.

That sort of thing didn’t happen often. Usually it was Bellamy waking up with the nightmares, and then endless hours of comfort and quiet murmuring. Ana learned in the beginning it was better to just pretend it wasn’t there, for her sake and for theirs.

No one wants their kid to see them when they’re scratching through their own skin and begging for death.

Sol didn’t see it as much as she did, thankfully. He didn’t remember when it much whenever it happened. But at the age of seven he was old enough to sluggishly pull himself out of bed and walk into his parent’s room as his mom screamed loudly into the night.

Ana’s eyes flew open when she heard her, and she sat up in bed subconsciously. She didn’t dare get out of it; she only would if her father specifically asked her to. In the few times Clarke had nightmares, he did, and she’d make a cup of tea and warm towels and sooth her mother while Bellamy went to get Abby. 

Other than that, she stayed in bed and avoided her parents like the plague.

That is, until she heard Sol wander into their bedroom and ask quietly, “Is Mommy okay?”

And before Ana knew what she was doing she flew out of her room and into Bellamy and Clarke’s. 

“Sol.” She said quickly and picked him up from behind. “Mommy’s just fine.”

She caught the look of horror on her father’s face as he sat up on the bed with Clarke clutched tightly to him. He stared at Sol with guilt and regret, wishing there was something he could do to make the image etched into his son’s head go away.

Would this be one of Sol’s early memories, of fear and nightmares?

Ana pushed those thoughts out of her own head and dragged her brother into the living space. “How about some sweet bread, Sol?”

He stared after the door that led to their parent’s bedroom. “Okay.” He said quietly and looked up at her with his wide brown eyes. “Why is Mommy crying?”

They were both too smart, too grown for their age. She wasn’t supposed to understand this. She was supposed to be just as confused as him. 

So she said, “I don’t know.” And cut him a slice of the sticky bread. “Eat your snack and I’ll tuck you in.”

“Will you tell me a story?”

“Of course I will.” She said firmly. He leaned into her tiredly in response.

It didn’t take long for him to get back to sleep with the legend of Hercules, despite the sad moans and whimpering that came from the other room. It had been nearly half an hour and she would still occasionally cry out loudly. There had yet to be any words.

When it was wordless it was bad.

Without being asked Ana made tea and started a small fire. She left a few towels near it to warm up, knowing her mother would be shivering endlessly.

As she measured out the herbs for tea, her father stepped into the kitchen area.

“What are you doing still up?” He asked tiredly. She felt his large hand touch her shoulder. He was shaking.

“Mom needs tea.” She said. 

He released a sigh. “You wanna go keep her company and I’ll finish making it?”

“Okay.” She murmured and nearly ran into the their bedroom. She hopped onto the bed and crawled over to her mother. 

Clarke was clutching her pillow, tears drying on her face. She was breathing heavily, small whimpers coming from her mouth occasionally, but other than that, she was remotely calm.

Ana lay down next to her so they were facing each other. She tucked a hand under her cheek and ran the other through her mother’s tangle of hair.

“Hi, nomon.” She said quietly.

Her mother had an empty look in her eyes, but she still registered Ana lying next to her. “Hi, Kitty Kat.”

Ana frowned. “You know I hate that nickname.”

The weakest of smiles appeared on the woman’s face. “I know.” She breathed. “But your dad loves it.”

At that, Ana’s frown turned into a smile of her own. “He does, doesn’t he?”

Clarke didn’t respond. A fresh tear leaked out of her eye, and she inhaled with a sniffle. 

Ana leaned forward and kissed the tear away. Then she nuzzled into her mothers chest and wrapped her arms around her body wordlessly. They stayed like that for a while, and Ana was almost sure they were both slowly falling asleep when she felt her father shake her gently.

“Here,” He said quietly, and handed Ana two steaming cups. He settled onto the bed and gently wrapped his hands around Clarke and dragged her up like a rag doll. He leaned against the wall and pulled her body between his legs. She collapsed against his chest weakly. He pushed her hair aside and pressed his lips against her temple before taking a cup from Ana.

She stayed there, watching as Bellamy brought the cup to Clarke’s lips. She drank without protest, making small noises as the hot tea went down her throat. 

“You’ll feel better.” He said softly when she pulled away from the cup. She didn’t say anything, just rested her head against him, eyes heavy as he stroked her hair.

He looked up at Ana, who was still sitting on the bed, watching them. His eyes were glassy. “Get some sleep.” He said. “You have school in the morning.”

With that, she drank her own tea before slipping out of the room. As she left he spoke quietly.

“Who was it?” He asked.

After a long moment, Clarke answered weakly, “I think it was him.”

He didn’t say anything. Ana tiptoed back to her room and collapsed onto her bed.

Her parents were the biggest mystery in the whole fucked up universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has given this a shot. It's so hard to write about these guys as a family but I just had to and I'm loving it so far. Also kinda thinking when Clarke and Bellamy got married she kept her last name because she's a badass and Bellamy is totally into it so Katerina and Sol are Blake-Griffin children. Leave a comment if you feel, I'd really love it.

**Author's Note:**

> yuj - strong  
> yongon - one's own child  
> goufa - any child  
> gona - warrior  
> nomon - mother  
> I got that off of the 100 Trigedasleng wiki, I apologize if any of it is used wrong.
> 
> I just had to write a story about this family, it was driving me absolutely crazy. This is my first time doing a fanfic in a while, first time publishing one on this particular website, and the first time doing one in The 100 fandom, so bear with me. It's un-beta'd, all mistakes are mine. I really hope you dig it. Please tell me what you think so I have a clue as to whether or not this is a good idea. I have absolutely no clue as to what I'm doing here.


End file.
